


only in dreams

by calcelmo



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Resident Evil 2, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcelmo/pseuds/calcelmo
Summary: He couldn’t hold on any more, and she held her breath as she fell. His scream would haunt her for a long time. Unbeknownst to her, she would be haunting him forever.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Ada Wong
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	only in dreams

**Author's Note:**

> okay disclaimer: im not a trans woman so im sorry if i got any of this wrong.  
> i really hope people like this, i worked pretty hard on it, i would love to read your feedback <3 thanks so much for reading 
> 
> -Edit: taken off anon :))   
> \-- MAY write a sequel!!!

She knew she had no one to blame but herself for all this. If only she'd put him off instead of encouraging it. 

His attraction to her was obvious in his every moment, although often he’d catch himself at it, and frown as he tried to claw back some masculinity. It still managed to surprise her, the way all men worked the same way. 

Ada wasn’t interested. Objectively, he could only be described as ‘beautiful’, but she’d seen, had, and hurt her fair share of pretty boys, and she’d grown tired of it. He seemed younger than his age, and immaturity was always a red flag. By the time this was over he’d have aged at least ten years. Trauma did that to a person. The shine in his eyes would be dulled, and he’d stop stumbling over himself to help total strangers, in favour of self-preservation. 

At least, that’s what she hoped. If he didn’t, he would never survive. 

The kiss was the final nail in the coffin, and she didn’t quite realise her mistake until she saw the look on his face. He looked like he was in love, which was fucking ridiculous, because they both smelled like sewer water, the kiss was dry and way too chaste for the ‘we’re about to die’ desperation he was radiating. 

She wanted to warn him not to wear his heart on his sleeve like that. People would see his vulnerabilities from a mile away if he broadcast them so brazenly. He didn’t even realise he was doing it, just pressed his fingertips to his lips where she’d pressed hers, and blinked dumbly back at her.

Stupidly, she decided he’d get over it. She’d be a ‘what if’, a drunken musing. And there’d be a lot of those. It hurt to think of him, bright and sweet as he was, drinking his life away, but she could sense it already. He would let this break him. 

Leon didn’t hesitate to pull a gun on her, which was a welcome surprise. She liked surprises. When the world worked as she’d predicted, it was boring and she became disillusioned with it, with people. 

She remembered the kiss and she knew that he was thinking about it too. His aim didn’t waver, and she was impressed. He had a little more depth to him than she’d first thought. 

“So that’s all this was? I was just some pawn to you?”

Ada didn’t want to hurt him. She’d do whatever she had to, but she’d take no pleasure from it. He didn’t understand that this wasn’t personal, that she’d honestly grown pretty fond of him, but if he got in the way of her job, sentiment wouldn’t save him.

“Hand over the sample, Leon. I don’t wanna hurt you,” she said tersely.

He held her gaze for a moment, then lowered his gun. 

“Then you shoot me. But I don’t think you can.”

His audacity almost made her laugh, just before the horror hit. Because he was _right._

Aiming the gun was easy. Threatening him was easy. But no matter how much she convinced herself it was necessary, it was for the mission, she couldn’t pull the trigger. 

Ada let her hand fall to her side, somewhat paralysed by shock. She had made a fatal error by failing to analyse her feelings for him. After just a few hours, he’d wormed his way into her heart. It was embarrassing, it was pathetic, it was the mark of a total idiot that she’d allowed it to happen. 

While these thoughts were vaguely going through her head in the span of a few seconds, she felt something hit shoulder. 

A bullet. 

The bridge began to collapse and so did she. She couldn’t feel the pain yet, just the wet trickle of blood down her arm. 

Leon grabbed her before she could fall. The sound of the bridge’s metallic groaning and creaking as it folded in on itself was nothing compared to the rush of blood in her ears. 

_I’m going to die._

It wasn’t an unfamiliar thought. She’d escaped death before- although she couldn’t quite see how she was going to get herself out of this one. The drop below her was hundreds of feet, and she couldn’t see the bottom. 

Leon tried frantically to pull her back up, but it only put more strain on the bridge. 

She made her peace. This was all her fault, so she didn’t get to die mad about it. The G sample was lost, she’d failed her mission because she caught feelings for a cute white cop. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to die. Of embarrassment. 

“Forget it,” she told him, resigned to her fate. 

He looked stricken. “Shut up,” he said, voice breaking. “I’ve got you.”

And that, he certainly had. 

“It’s not worth it,” she sighed. He’d won. It would be so wrong for him to die with her.

“Don’t do this,” he begged. 

As far as she was concerned, it was already done. After he’d refused to cooperate with her, played the hero, pulled a gun on her and forced her hand, all that was left to do was absolve his guilt, so if he ever made it out of here, he wouldn’t have her death forever on his conscience. 

“Take care of yourself, Leon,” she gave him a half-smile. 

He couldn’t hold on any more, and she held her breath as she fell. His scream would haunt her for a long time. Unbeknownst to her, she would be haunting him forever. 

* * *

Three years had passed since Leon escaped Raccoon City with Claire and Sherry. He wasn’t so much of a mess as he was at first, but adjusting to life post-zombie-outbreak was... difficult, to say the least. They’d held Sherry’s wellbeing over his head to convince him to work for the government. He’d objected originally, but he soon came to realise it was far better to keep himself busy than lay in bed for hours at home, reliving his nightmarish experiences.

Certain memories were more vivid than others. He often woke up gasping for air, trapped in the feeling of the Tyrant’s hand closed around his neck. Sometimes he could hear the ragged breathing of the young girl whose father had threatened him in Kendo’s gun shop. 

Always, he was plagued by guilt. If only he had been strong enough to pull Ada back to safety. 

He knew she was corrupt. A liar. Probably a psychopath who’d killed a lot of people. And yet, three years later, he still dreamt of their kiss. 

Dwelling on the past didn’t help anyone, so he tried to avoid it. But sometimes, the past catches up to you. 

Leon’s plane flew out tomorrow. He was staying at a safehouse near the airport. In the morning, he and Chris Redfield would embark on a trip to the United Kingdom. They didn’t expect any trouble, just chasing a potential informant around the globe until he agreed to provide them with what they needed. They wanted Leon to go alone, but Chris had insisted he didn’t, not on his first mission in the field. It was their first time working together, just the two of them, on an op. 

Chris was a good guy, although sometimes it felt like he had something against Leon. Sometimes, he seemed to clench his jaw when Leon spoke, or frowned over at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. At first, he guessed Chris made assumptions about him and Claire, and he was just being the protective older brother. He tried to subtly point out that there was nothing between them, that he didn’t think of Claire in that kind of way. It just seemed to annoy him even more. 

And it was weird, because Chris wasn’t always like that. He’d invited Leon out for drinks, told him he could call if there was anything he needed. He never admitted it, but Leon knew he was watching his back as he integrated into his new career. 

Whatever Chris’ deal was, Leon knew they could keep it professional while they did what had to be done. 

It was late, and he was laying on the bed upstairs. There was a guard outside, sitting on the doorstep drinking a coffee. Leon’s bedroom was right next to the fire escape. Chris was downstairs on the couch. He’d given the impression he didn’t really want to talk.

Leon tried to get some sleep, but he felt restless, unable to relax. He knew logically that everything would be fine, they would intercept their guy- Philip Wilson- before he could board a plane to Russia, bring him in, and offer him witness protection while he spilled all the secrets of biological weaponry he’d picked up in his long and illustrious career. He thought he was meeting British clients to hand over a case of tissue replacement formula, but it was Chris and Leon he’d be meeting in the warehouse. They’d been tipped off as to his whereabouts by a trusted undercover agent. Wilson was comparative small fry, but he’d been around a long time, and he knew where the development took place. That was the key thing. They were interested in locations of processing plants, research centres; names not so much. 

Still, Leon couldn’t help but run through his mind all the things that could go wrong. And while he respected Chris’ experience, he realized he found it hard to blindly follow orders. 

He heard a noise from outside and slid out of bed to investigate it. He grabbed his handgun from the bedside table and silently approached the window. 

He couldn’t see anything. The guard was still there, but he’d finished his coffee. Leon stood very still, listening out for the noise again.

There. A rattling sound, metal against brick. It was the fire escape. He reached out to open the window, holding his breath.

A gun cocked next to his ear.

“Don’t move.”

A woman’s voice. He swallowed and lowered his gun, wondering if he should shout for the guard. 

“Hand me your gun. Back away from the window, go sit on the bed.”

Dimly, Leon realized he recognized that voice. He couldn’t process it, turning out his palm for the woman to snatch the gun off him, before walking himself back to sit on his bed. 

Through the open window, his captor climbed inside. 

_“Ada?!”_

She looked up at the sound of his voice. It was her. Somehow, Ada Wong was standing before him, one hand pressed to her side. 

He stared at her, jaw dropped to the floor. 

“My rib is fractured,” she said curtly. “Do you have any bandages?” 

Leon gaped. “H-how are you- I thought-?”

“Clearly not,” she said impatiently. Her wince of pain made him snap out of his shock to help her. He stood, contrary to her order, and helped her onto the bed, to which she didn’t object. He didn’t miss the way her breath hitched with the pain, so he was careful not to jostle her too much. 

He wondered if this was all a dream. It felt way too realistic, and he dreamed about her often, but never like this. If she was really here, that meant she hadn't died in the fall, and somehow, she'd been alive this entire time. Three long years without contacting him. And then stumbling through the window of a government safehouse? It was almost too much for him to believe, but he certainly _wanted_ to. 

“I’m not alone here,” he pointed out.

“I know.”

“How did you find me?” 

She was gingerly reaching under her shirt to inspect the damage. There was a lot of bruising. “My associates use government safehouses too; just not when you’re using them. I know who you’re onto. Wilson. I thought you might be here.”

“You hoped,” he corrected her with a grin. 

Not pushing his luck, he quietly went downstairs in a daze to find some bandages. His mind was racing. Ada was alive. She had survived the fall and she was lying in his bed. What the fuck.

“Leon?” Chris called.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I cut my hand on some glass, just gonna bandage it up,” he replied. He wasn’t going to tell Chris that Ada was here. He’d have her taken in, and Leon might never get to see her again. He found the first aid kit and brought it back upstairs. 

Ada tried to do it herself, but she struggled with taking off her shirt.

“Can I help?” he asked gently. 

Huffing in frustration, she let her arms fall to her sides in invitation for him to take over. His hands were unsteady when he undid her shirt buttons. He couldn’t believe she was still breathing after a fall that had to be hundreds of meters, let alone here in front of him. 

“Thought you were dead,” he said quietly. 

“Do I look dead?”

“No. You look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes, but wasn’t quick enough to hide her smile. He tried not to stare at her chest, but it was... difficult.

“Come on, Leon, I’m sure you’ve seen breasts before,” she said under her breath. Embarrassed, he helped undo her bra strap. He didn’t want to admit that actually, he hadn’t, he hadn’t really had the chance to get with someone in the past three years. He didn’t feel ready. He was stupidly hung up on her.

She was able to skilfully bandage her ribs with the practice of someone who’d done it before, and he only helped her to tie them. She didn’t fold her arms around her chest, just slipped her shirt back over her shoulders. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked her. He didn’t quite know where to look or what to do with his hands while she lay back against his pillow. 

“You know what happened the last time you started asking me questions,” she sighed. 

It brought back memories. He remembered how hopeless he’d felt when he watched her fall. How much it hurt to let her go.

“At least tell me how you got hurt.”

“Someone kicked me.”

She laughed when she saw his expression. “What, you wished you were there to save me? The damsel in distress?” 

He only felt angry at imagining someone beating her. He knew she was capable- far more capable than him, but he hated to think of her in pain. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at the floor. What did she want from him? He’d felt deliriously happy upon discovering she hadn’t died, but he felt disappointed that this wasn’t exactly a social visit.

Ada sat up slightly, watching him carefully.

“Why did you come to me?” he asked. He thought he knew the answer. She needed someone who wouldn’t give her away. She chose him because she thought he was soft, weak, wouldn’t do what needed to be done because his feelings got in the way. And maybe that was true, once. He resented it; the way she’d waltzed back into his life because she wanted something, not because she cared enough to let him know he hadn’t let her die.

“You’ve changed,” she observed, avoiding his question. 

He scoffed. “Not really.”

He felt just the same, just as out of his depth. These days, he let the tide carry him away instead of standing against it. 

“I wanted to see you again,” Ada told him.

“So why did you wait this long?” 

He didn’t mean to sound so upset, his voice wavering. He wanted to play it cool, make her see he was fine without her. Maybe he could even mention he had a girlfriend. 

(He didn’t.)

She wasn’t completely cold. “Come here.”

He bit his lip, weighing it up. 

“Come here, Leon,” she repeated, honey-sweet but commanding, and he had no chance. He came round the other side of the bed and got in beside her, careful not to touch, careful not to hurt her. 

“Did you think about me?” she murmured. Her fingers intertwined with his, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. 

“I-” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. It must have been answer enough, because she pulled him close by the fabric of his t-shirt and slotted their mouths together. 

Leon whined pathetically into the kiss. His face burned red with shame, but it had been three fucking years since he kissed someone, kissed _her,_ and she’d haunted his dreams almost every night. She brushed his bangs back off his forehead as she pushed her tongue between his lips, and his hands went to her hips. 

“Careful,” she hissed. 

“Shit. Sorry.”

He pulled back a little to make sure she was okay. She must have gotten beaten pretty bad, she might have broken more than one rib. The last thing he wanted to do was make it worse by pawing at her. 

He couldn’t imagine what he looked like; breathless and hard just from making out. She looked as cool and collected as ever. It was hot. 

“We don’t have to do anything,” he whispered. He didn’t want her to be in pain. She could sleep here if she wanted, they didn’t have to take it any further. 

“What would we be doing?” she smirked. 

He opened his mouth to answer indignantly but realized she was mocking him. He sighed. “Nothing at all.” Leaning back on the bed, trying to see if there was enough room for both of them, he asked if she wanted to stay here for the night. 

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But did you _want_ to do something first?”

Yes, he wanted. He’d pined after her for three long years, only he hadn’t even jacked off thinking about her because that just seemed disrespectful to the dead. “It doesn’t matter. You’re hurt.” 

“It’s only my ribs that are broken, Leon. The rest of me is fine,” she smiled wickedly. 

Leon flushed, holding her gaze. “Only if you want.”

Ada pulled him close again, brushing her lips chastely against his. Then she leaned back with a sigh. “You might not.”

“What?” he squinted, because he’d never heard anything more ridiculous. “Are you kidding?”

She laughed, somewhat bitterly. “That’s flattering. But I mean it.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ada nodded slowly and resignedly. There was a long pause before she finally explained her hesitance. “I’m a trans woman,” she said.

* * *

  
  
Naturally he had no clue what she was talking about. He was cute, but kind of dumb. Although, no matter how much she told herself how stupid he was, it would still hurt her monumentally if he rejected her. _When_ he rejected her. 

It was fine for him to say no. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t break her, just a little. He was the first person she’d trusted with this in years. Too many bad experiences left her swearing off men, and here she was again. She should have agreed when he said they didn't have to have sex. She could have held on to her dignity.

She felt like begging. Pathetic, yes, but she couldn’t bear to see the starstruck awe disappear from his gaze when he looked at her. His crush was more than flattering, it was validation. He was stunning, he could have anyone (so long as he didn’t open that clumsy mouth), but he didn’t want ‘anyone’. He wanted her. That was more affirming than she ever wanted him to know.

“Um,” he said eloquently, confusion writ almost comically in his features. “Can you... can you walk me through that?”

So he was willing to listen. What a martyr. 

Ada was beginning to regret ever bringing it up. She should have disappeared into the darkness and remained a beautiful, tragic mystery forever in his heart, instead of ‘I’m a woman with a cock’. Despite it, she knew she had to see this through.

“I took hormones from a young age and had breast surgery, but I still have male genitalia,” she said, almost robotically, because it hurt more than she expected to force the words out. Half of her was angry that she’d put herself in such a vulnerable position. Half of her just wanted to curl up in his arms. 

Leon was almost visibly processing it all, frowning deeply, lips parted in confusion, and she’d find it funny if it wasn’t so terrifying. She let nothing show on her face, only indifference. She’d been through this maybe six or seven times before, with varying results, but always the same fear of rejection. This was different. It was Leon, and like it or not, her feelings for him were going nowhere.

“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You used to be a man?” 

She winced. “I suppose that’s one way to word it,” she answered dryly.

In reality, she’d began transitioning as early in her teens as she’d been able. She was lucky, in that regard, but she’d had to fight for access to hormones and surgery. It was part of the reason her current occupation was so shady. 

“So... you still have...”

“A penis. Yes.”

He still looked so goddamn bewildered, but he actually snorted at that. This whole thing was getting old. She regretted opening up to him, and she felt like a bug under a microscope. Most of all, she felt a great sadness. She’d never be the kind of woman he wanted. 

“I understand you’re no longer interested, but you can refrain from laughing about it,” she said coldly.

Leon’s gaze snapped up to hers at that. “Oh, no, no,” he said. He tried to say something serious, but he couldn’t stop himself from dissolving into silent laughter. 

Ada didn’t often get angry. Anger only caused mistakes. With him laughing at her like that, she couldn’t fight it. Gritting her teeth against both the pain and the betrayal, she levered herself off the bed and decided she was never coming back.

“Ada. Ada, fuck, wait, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. He followed her and came to stand in front of the window so she couldn’t get out, holding up his hands, expression pained. “I’m not- I’m not laughing at _you."_

“Then what the fuck is so funny?” she snapped, losing her cool.

“Please sit down,” he pleaded softly. 

She stared him down, before she broke, and sat back down, pointedly folding her arms even though it made her ribs twinge. 

He sat next to her, twisting his hands as he debated what to say. Her patience was wearing thin and if the next words out of his mouth weren’t ‘that’s totally fine let’s fuck’ she was going to defenestrate herself. 

“It’s a lot to take in,” he said, then quickly glanced up at her. “I mean- that you’re even alive. I guess it just got to me. I found the whole situation so crazy, and that was just... the icing on the cake in terms of... how I didn’t expect my evening to turn out.”

She pursed her lips, watching him expectantly. 

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said, softer now. “I thought... I thought I was in love with you.” 

“You only knew me for a few hours,” she teased, but there was no real mocking in it. Her anger was draining away, but she felt even more vulnerable now. 

He smiled sadly. “Stupid, isn’t it?” 

She had to look away, because his astuteness put her to shame. He knew she thought he was stupid. She suddenly felt guilty. 

“And now?” she asked. She tried to keep her voice level, but some of the urgency bled through. 

Leon took hold of her hand and held her gaze, more open than she’d ever dare to be. “Not with someone who doesn’t feel the same.”

Ada began to wonder if he was the clever one. It was only fair that she gave him something back, and truth be told she was finding it hard to maintain an air of aloofness when she wanted to suck his dick until he passed out.

“I do,” she murmured. 

It was enough. He smiled in the same way he had three years ago; shy and warm. She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, butterflies in her stomach and pulse racing. Her ribs hurt when she did it but she didn’t care, wrapping her arms round his neck and kissing him deep as she could. He took the hint and steadied her, his hands splayed across her thighs, pulling her close enough that she could feel his cock pressing up against her stomach. 

“Oh my god,” he whispered reverently, and she had to stifle laughter. She slipped her hand under the waistband of his boxers to take him in hand, and his fingers dug into the material of her suit pants, his breathing harsh against her mouth. 

She wanted to give him the best blowjob of his life, except she wasn’t sure she could stay in that position long enough. She told him as much and the way his pupils eclipsed his irises in response was more than gratifying. 

“’S okay,” he said incoherently, rocking his hips up to push his dick into her fist. She trailed her index finger over the tip to gather the precum there, and he jolted forward with an involuntary whimper. 

“You’re very sensitive,” she observed, amused.

His reply was more of a garbled, choked-off moan. He wasn’t used to being toyed with like that, so he tried to regain some control, backing away from her nails tracing the length of his cock. Leon’s hands went to the zip of her suit pants, and he silently asked her permission to go further.   
Her mouth went dry. Removing that last barrier of clothing wouldn’t just leave her exposed physically, but exposed emotionally.

“I don’t mind,” he assured her determinedly, seeming to pick up on her uncertainty. She believed him, and gave him a minute nod.

He didn’t so much as blink when his hands brushed her cock through her panties. 

“Lay back,” he said hoarsely. 

She moved slowly so she wouldn’t betray her eagerness, or risk more damage. As she did so, he helped her completely out of the suit pants so she was laying there in just her shirt and panties. Generously, she shrugged the shirt off to expose her breasts.

He arranged himself to lie further down the bed on his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows.

He looked up at her and swallowed hard, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It wasn’t even meant to be seductive, which made it all the sweeter.

“Be gentle,” she told him, uncharacteristically self-conscious. “It’s... a little different to yours.”

“You just tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” he whispered.

It was almost painful to hear him say that. No one had ever looked at her like that, or treated her with that much care. Her brain screamed at her that this was manipulation, this was taking advantage of her attachment, but her heart told her- rare though they were- she’d found someone truly _good._

Leon gave a shaky sigh before he pulled her underwear down to free her cock. He seemed nervous, but in his rookie’s eager way to impress. 

He touched her tentatively, feeling how she wasn’t really flaccid, but couldn’t get as hard as he could. He didn’t let it discourage him, and Ada was glad, because she didn’t feel like giving a biology lesson on the effects of estrogen. His gentle touch felt better than she could begin to describe, and she sat up a little so she could tangle her fingers in his hair. 

“You’re so good,” she murmured. His eyes fluttered closed at the praise, his cock leaking steadily onto the sheets. 

She never gave him enough credit. She couldn’t help the way her grip in his hair tightened, and a gasp fell from her lips as he kitten-licked the head of her dick. Gentle as she’d instructed, he took it into his mouth and began to suck, shifting forward to fit all of it against the wet heat of his tongue.

“It feels amazing,” she admitted breathlessly, petting aimlessly through his hair. He hummed in acknowledgement of the compliment, and that went straight to her dick. “Leon. You’re so pretty, did anyone ever tell you that?”

He held her hips down with one hand, the other snaking down to tug at his cock. That wasn’t in the rules, but she’d let it slide for obvious reasons. The quiet keening he made with her dick crammed down his throat, saliva gathering at the corner of his mouth, was almost inaudible, but it was making her heart ache and she wanted to hear him louder.

A whispered stream of dirty talk had him spilling over his own fist, pausing to take his mouth off her while he caught his breath. 

“You are gorgeous,” she told him, while he trembled his way through aftershocks. “I want to keep you forever."

“Please,” he said desperately. It was the rawness of his voice having sucked her off that tipped her over the edge. Just the brush of his hand against her soft skin had her coming harder than she could ever remember, clear fluid coating his fingers. He licked them clean, which was completely unfair; she needed a break. 

He reached out to clean them up awkwardly with tissues on the bedside table. He worked methodically and steadily, seeming unfazed by what he'd just done. She kept a close eye on him in case he flipped, became uncomfortably aware of the aspersions this would cast on his sexuality, but he seemed completely calm- even less tense than he'd been before.

“Want to sleep in my shirt?” he asked, voice still a little rough. 

Sex gave you warm and fuzzy feelings, some chemical she didn’t know the name of flooding her brain to make her nod. She took the proffered shirt and was too far gone not to curl into it. His arm came to wrap carefully around her shoulders, and she tucked her head under his chin, content for the first time in forever. 

“So... that was good?” 

She could feel him talking, the vibrations of his chest against her back. It was nice. She hadn’t ever been held like this. 

“You made me come,” she deadpanned. 

He laughed reflexively, but his tone dropped unintentionally low when he said, “Yeah?” It made her shiver. He tucked her hair behind her ear, smoothing over the strands, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Did you mean what you said?” 

She thought about what he could mean. “Which part?”

“About... keeping me.” 

Ada exhaled. She didn’t want to let him down, but how could they ever work out? She could find the time for a few clandestine meetings, perhaps a whole night here and there, but she knew deep down he wasn’t that kind of guy. He probably wanted marriage, kids, the whole lot. She couldn’t be that woman. 

“Our lives are very different,” she replied tactfully.

She could feel his disappointment with the way he tensed against her. 

“I like you,” she murmured, still reluctant to give too much of herself away. “But I can’t give you what you want.”

“Then just give me what you can.” 

He tried to keep it light, but she could hear the hint of desperation. She understood now, that she’d left far more of an impression on him three years ago than she’d ever intended. He’d spent that time in mourning, in confused yearning for someone who was dead and gone. Except her she was, like a ghost, and he didn’t want to let go of her again. 

Making a commitment to someone was a daunting prospect. She’d always been free to do as she pleased, and she’d chosen a life of meticulously-planned reconnaissance, which didn’t allow for personal relationships. She couldn’t guarantee she’d be home when she promised, and she didn’t think Leon would take that too well. But she could tell that he’d grown up a little; he’d always have that dangerously big heart, but after everything he’d been through, he developed a slight edge, that made him seem older than his twenty-four years.

She hadn’t found this kind of connection before. He took her being transgender in his stride, and he proved he could be trusted, but also hard to manipulate. It was important that he never became a liability, a weakness, who couldn’t be trusted to look after himself.   
If Leon was happy for small moments, short and sweet, a life filled with uncertainty and danger, then she wouldn’t deny him. He knew the risks by now.

And it wasn’t one-sided.

“I’ll do my best,” she offered. 

He took it. He was good like that; perceptive of her limit. He helped her lay down on the pillow so she was comfortable, or as comfortable as she could possibly be with her injuries, and wrapped her in his arms, tangling their legs together. 

“I’ll be gone in the morning,” she warned, feeling deeply tired. She wanted to let herself relax, wake up with the sun streaming through the windows in the arms of the man she was falling in love with, but time waited for no one and they had jobs to do.

“But you’ll come back,” he mumbled sleepily, slipping his hand under her t-shirt and tracing patterns on the skin of her stomach. 

Ada decided that yes; she would. For him, she’d come back. 


End file.
